


test run

by Neo5



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Also kind of, Dom/sub, M/M, entirely too self-indulgent, face in valve action, kind of, kink night, loveydovey, simpatico, spike in valve action
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:40:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25137814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neo5/pseuds/Neo5
Summary: It started from an accident. Perceptor may or may not have taken a tone of authority with him one day when Brainstorm was being a general ass in lab, and looked at him with a hard expression that left no room for arguments. And Brainstorm’s fans might or might not have kicked to high gear as he just stood there like an horny idiot, staring.
Relationships: Brainstorm/Perceptor (Transformers)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 89





	test run

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first ever piece of fanfiction and it's not betaed and english is my third language. but I poured a bucket load of love on it and mixed carefully so hopefully that makes up for that. anyways. the world needs more simpatico.

It started from an accident. Perceptor may or may not have taken a tone of authority with him one day when Brainstorm was being a general ass in lab, and looked at him with a hard expression that left no room for arguments. And Brainstorm’s fans might or might not have kicked to high gear as he just stood there like an horny idiot, staring.

They had been together for a while now, and Brainstorm had absolutely no complaints whatsoever about the contents of their relationship. Quite the opposite actually. He had been telling everyone who just happened into his orbit how happy he was and how he had caught _the_ Perceptor. Much to the charging and fond amusement of everyone.

But anyways. That happiness did reach all the way to the bedroom, and after some awkward fumbling they had found a good rhythm to things and almost shyly explored each other and their tastes. At least Brainstorm did. Most of the time he still didn’t quite believe how lucky he got and he was scared of moving too fast and waking himself up from this perfect dream.

Which was why when the aforementioned thing might or might not have happened it scared him witless. They had kept things pretty vanilla. They seemed to be okay with that. Perceptor seemed to be the type who wasn’t super adventurous and was content as long as there was closeness. Brainstorm had managed to keep his mouth shut about any possible kinks he might have and he was quite proud of his self control. Because he knew that he had none.

But that event had them talking. Perceptor asking him with the lightest teases if there was something he wanted to tell. And Brainstorm finally admitting through his denta that he might have had fantasies of the power play sort. Maybe. On weak moments. Dreams of a fighter jet bending to the will of a delicate microscope kind. A little bit more talking, teasing and soft kisses with a promise of returning to this after work was done.

And that got them here a few days later.

In Perceptor’s hab suite, a polite d’n’d on their comms, the door locked, lights dimmed, the red mech sitting in an armchair like it was his throne, and Brainstorm on his knees on the floor. It certainly was a leap to the unknown and they had both made sure that either one could tap out at any time. Brainstorm had stressed this fact more so than his bonded, stuttering for the tenth time that they didn’t have to try this if it made him uncomfortable. But Perceptor had sidestepped that self conscious slag with grace and told him that he didn’t mind being a little adventurous. You couldn’t know the end results without rigorous testing. Bless him.

Once he found himself kneeling on the floor with growing uncertainty, Perceptor had carefully cuffed the jet’s wrists behind his back, tied a soft improvised blindfold around his helm and gently unclasped the manual locks on his mask to remove it. Then he had shuffled around the room to do something that Brainstorm couldn’t see, and the jet had just sat there carefully on his winged heels as he listened.

There was the sound of his mask being placed against a hard surface, and steps that moved from the table to the berth and then to the carefully arranged bookshelves. He had no idea what was happening but he was slowly starting to get twitchy -from nerves, anticipation or feeling stupid-. Until Perceptor had mercy on him and stopped whatever it was that he was doing or clearing up, and he had sat down on the surprisingly comfy armchair that he had for his desk.

Brainstorm’s wings twitched nervously up and down in intervals as they tried to keep him informed over what was happening in the room, catching the lightest air currents and sources of heat. Feeding that sensory data to his processor. In which he was also worrying over if he was sitting straight properly, and if he was looking good, or stupid tied up and off balance. What Perceptor’s expression looked like, and how he was feeling over this? Was he bored? Disappointed? Regr--

“ _Relax_ , Brainstorm,” Perceptor’s voice broke the silence, cutting the jet’s fretting and making his focus pinpoint to that warm and familiar voice. Familiar, except with a hint of authority that went straight down his spinal strut and into places that tingled pleasantly. Oh how his creators and teachers would turn in their graves if they heard that the terror jet of the institute was brought to heel by a little piece of fabric and one word.

“I can hear you thinking, and for once, don’t.”

No room for arguments, Brainstorm nodded -he had been told to stay quiet after he had been made to kneel and he was determined to be good- and his wings relaxed from their high perch along with his shoulders. He wasn’t used to being quiet, and the nervous energy transferred to him lightly licking his lips in anticipation. Without the protection of his mask he felt very self conscious of his expressions.

“You make for a pleasant sight like this. On your knees, quiet, _attentive_.” Perceptor continued in a matter of fact voice. Not nervous at all, in control. Almost casual. He wasn’t sure if that was just a hell of a poker face or if it just came that natural to Percy. “Maybe if I had known what it takes to get you quiet and pay attention I would have indulged in this a long time ago.” Oh. Maybe it was less natural talent and more just Brainstorm being really fragging weak. The jet bit his lip to stay quiet. He couldn’t pick up any movement from the other so he just pictured Perceptor sitting on his throne, lounging comfortably, looking almost bored. Lording over the bigger jet with ease like that was what he was forged to do.

“But that attention span of yours will need to be worked on.” he tutted and he sounded almost fond, and Brainstorm realized that he had let his thoughts wander, and the rhythmic movement of his wings was a dead give away. Instead of focusing to be attentive and good, his processor was more concerned over Perceptor’s reactions than actually focusing to be here in the moment. He huffed quietly in frustration at himself.

But there was no reprimand at him for it, and instead Perceptor took a moment to consider. Before he was shifting in his chair, and extending his leg towards the kneeling jet. Brainstorm perked up, trying to track the movement and its intent. And the tip of a dark pede gently nudged his chin up, and now Brainstorm was _definitely_ paying attention. Yes, sir. He still couldn't see anything, but he could practically feel Perceptor’s optics on his face. Gazing at him. All of him.

And he felt a flicker of self conscious embarrassment in his spark.

“I like you like this.” Perceptor spoke up again in soft praise and Brainstorm shuddered from the power of it. He could probably power his existence off praise from Percy alone. “Without your mask.” the other explains, moving his pede slowly this and that way to tilt the jet’s delicate chin with it and he lets his helm lol with the movement. “You are so expressive, and it is a shame to hide that beautiful face from me all day long.”

The embarrassment turned into something much more softer with a pulse of warmth, and his wings did a courting flick all on their own.

He wasn’t sure if Perceptor could understand what his wings tried to convey, the complicated and intricate language that all fliers shared but many grounders missed as just twitchy behaviour. But worries had been pushed to the back of his processor, and all his focus was on that small point of contact. Until the other let his pede fall back to the floor and Brainstorm could hear shuffling as Percy leaned forwards and took a gentle yet firm grip of his chin instead, causing the jet to almost tilt over. Perceptor’s field was heavy with interest and that brand of focus he showed for especially intriguing problems, laced with tentative arousal and Brainstorm absolutely _basked_ in it.

“And when you remove the mask only to berth it creates a Pavlovian response in me.” Perceptor explained slowly, his voice dropping to a rough whisper like he was sharing a secret that he wasn’t too happy to admit as he gently drew his thumb over the yellow lower lip. And in response the jet gasped his mouth open and his vents hitched for sudden air as his core temperature spiked. He didn’t remove his mask often. It had become a bit of a neurose, a shameful secret. Something to not share with anyone. Perceptor pressed his thumb past his lips and pinned his glossa down, drawing his mouth open with his firm grip. He had never been more happy to own an actual mouth than when Percy got use out of it.

“So when I see this mouth, it gives me _ideas_.”

Brainstorm moaned wantonly at that tone, at the implication. His wings fluttering down in a sign of pretty submission. Give him the ideas. _All_ the ideas. He wanted to know what moved in that brilliant processor of his bonded. What made Perceptor run hot?

Perceptor drew his thumb over the wet glossa and then over the edge of his lower denta, before he let go and withdrew back to his throne. From the sounds of it he was getting comfortable, and Brainstorm took the moment to swallow nervously and try to reclaim the ownership of his glossa.

“Come here.”

And Brainstorm hurried to comply with the order immediately with no complaints, shuffling forwards on his knees until he felt the other’s thighs around him. He felt bold, and leaned over to rest his cheek on the warm lovely thigh, gazing blindly up at his conjux in adoration. It caused a ripple of lust and warmth in Perceptor’s EM field that he subduedly met with his own, and next he felt fingers gently petting over his helmet, the touch taking with it all tension from his spine. They wouldn’t have to do much than spend an hour sitting here, getting pet by Perceptor and he would have been entirely happy. He wasn’t sure if that was what real love was, or if that was just his own brand of pathetic.

The dark fingers trailed a line down the side of his head, over his cheek, and finally a finger tip gently traced the edge of his intricate cheek vent. Brainstorm’s optics shuttered shut and his engines purred softly and contentedly.

“You look good on your knees. Maybe I should have you down there more often. I could have you tied up like this while working. Reward you like a pet if you were nice and quiet while I deal with my paperwork. Perhaps devise a gag if you _don’t_ behave.”

It was almost absurd to hear Perceptor talk like that, but also really really hot. A mixture of ‘did science finally go too far’ and ‘yes please, oh primus’ sang in the jet, and he almost spoke. Almost. But managed to just bite back his ‘please’ with a whine, and instead nuzzled on Perceptor’s tight as an answer, pressing a chaste kiss on the hot metal.

A hand appeared on his left wing, gently tracing fingers along the upper rim, causing pleasant ripples of pleasure to run through his delicate sensory network and making his other wing twitch in sympathy.

“Or perhaps I could find some use for that pretty mouth of yours and come up other ways to gag it. You wouldn’t be distracting me from work, and you could earn your treat at the same time.”

And there was _suggestion_ in Perceptor’s tone. Up to this point Brainstorm had not heard his bonded utter anything so suggestive. And he wasn’t sure if the other was just really feeling the role, or if this was bubbling up from somewhere that he had not been able to tap into before. Whatever the case the jet was going to take that suggestion and energy and slagging _run_ with it.

Brainstorm shifted forwards again, his shoulders bumping against the white thighs now, leaning forwards blindly and hungrily until his nose bumped against metal. He kissed the first surface he could reach, licked and nibbled, gently worshipping Perceptor’s abdominal plates and then from there navigated his way downwards and to the other’s array. There might have been a soft gasp from Percy but it was so small that he might as well have imagined it.

The panel covering his goal was already warm against his faceplates, and he licked over the surface to locate the seams and get the lay of the land. And then worked his glossa and lips over the thin joints to try and urge the panel to withdraw. He could imagine doing this in the lab, under Perceptor’s desk. Pinned down with one black pede as his mouth was kept busy so he wouldn’t be running it constantly. He liked talking. He liked goading Percy’s attention away from boring reports to Magnus and to something actually fun. Like him for example. He liked being a bother. Didn’t mean that he didn’t run hot for the idea of being shut up as well. Those two did not cancel each other out.

He could clearly hear how Perceptor’s fans were loudly betraying his changing condition, and Brainstorm’s breath on his array came in hot puffs as well as his core temperature rose. There were traces of lubricate dripping between the seams, he could practically taste it already, but the damned panel was not letting him pass.

Brainstorm whined, both frustrated and pleading, nuzzling the side of his helm against Percy’s thigh, nose tickling the seam between white and black.

Perceptor chuckled, but it was a bit more breathy than he probably intended. He shifted his legs a bit, making it more comfortable for Brainstorm to sit there between his thighs. It was nice there. He wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his life between those legs. But he _did_ mind the taunting panel that was determined to stop his advance.

“What’s that?” Perceptor asked, clearly amused. And that was probably a permission to answer.

“ _Please_.” he begged. He begged so pretty, so good. His wings were pressed back and down, he was keeping his tied gaze down and neck on display, gently nuzzling on the thigh.

“Please, _wha_ t?” Perceptor goaded him, and that smug bastard knew exactly what he wanted. How was he even so good at this? At his control of himself? He had to have practiced before, there was no way that Percy just was that good at everything that he set his mind to, and Brainstorm was suddenly determined to throw him off his game.

“I want to eat out your valve like a starving mech at the feast of Primus. I want you to sit on my face and use my mouth until I’m choking and not care until you’ve had your fill — _please_.”

He put on his best desperate and breathy act, which in all honestly wasn’t as much of an act as just a brutally honest glimpse into his spark. If he was going to admit to this whole being walked over thing he was going to go in _deep_. The last part was added as an hasty afterthought, because he couldn’t help being a little bit cheeky. 

After a moment of stunned silence the panel before him shifted open, and Brainstorm’s spark did a celebratory loop as he pushed his advance once more.

When he leaned in to lick over the array again he was met with wet and warm mesh against the tip of his glossa, a sure sign that this whole thing was going in the right direction since it had even the usually so cool and collected mech turned on. Encouraged by his progress and determined to get top grades, Brainstorm pushed forwards to give the smug bastard the overload of his life. Except that just before he could lick over the folds again he felt delicate fingers pushing against his helm, stopping him in his tracks. And the jet paused, wondering if he had done something bad.

“Smartass jets don’t get treats. So _behave_.” Perceptor warned him in a low staticky whisper, pulling his hand back but tapping him on his wet nose before letting Brainstorm get back to it.

Okay, yeah. He was supposed to be good and obedient. Not raise up to bait or get smart. That was kinda the whole point of the thing, but he couldn’t help it that he liked breaking rules. As an apology for his slip up he searched out the delicate nub first, giving it a few licks and kisses that had Perceptor shivering. And only then did he move downwards, making wide and long licks over the folds and the anterior node.

And he was pretty good at working valves. What he might have lacked for in experience he made up in determination, and probably a concerning amount of study. It kinda came with the territory of having built several sexy toys in his time, but once he found out that Perceptor didn’t have a preference for either way and liked valve play as well he had dedicated a fair amount into becoming a self appointed valve eating champion. Sometimes his ability to obsess over an object, and devour a frightening amount of data about it in one sit actually came in handy.

They both got to enjoy the fruits of his labor, as was evident by the way the valve twitched and tried to cycle around the width of his invading glossa as he pressed it in as far as he could reach. Up and until his nose was mushed against the nub, licking over interior nodes that he had already memorized and making a complete mess of his face in the progress. Perceptor was making small hitching noises as he was trying to stay quiet, which he usually did when they got frisky anyways. Either out of shyness or pride, he hadn’t got that deep into that mystery yet. But what Percy _didn’t_ usually do was wiggle his leg closer and under him, until the tip of his pede was pressing against Brainstorm’s heated panels and, not gonna lie, it took him by quite a surprise.

But then the jet’s engines roared in response, and the pressure and tease against his hot panels continued, until there were few more demanding nudges. His panel withdrew almost without any kind of conscious permission, and his spike finally got to pressurize out of its uncomfortably confining housing, much to the jet’s relief. He didn’t strictly have a spike preference, but there wasn’t much need to wonder and ponder when he had a perfectly willing valve at his face.

He pushed his glossa in the wet cavern again with renewed vigor, and in return he got the pede’s side brushing over his spike just light enough that his hips were twitching to press back against it to get some blessed friction. A freaking tease. A smug bastard and a tease, that’s what his conjunx was even when he tried to act so prim and proper outside of berth. And that statement should not have been taken as a complaint. Just a frustrating and weirdly hot fact.

He gave few worshipping licks over the wet folds and the pede brushed him from below now, gently nudging like he was weighing the hot length that twitched from neediness and brushed against his hip flap. And Brainstorm was not above finding a good angle to rut against the pede like some mechanimal in heat, no sir, leaving a wet trail against the dark plating as he feasted on the valve.

Their touches turned almost soft, Brainstorm’s wings had again moved from submissive down turn into tentative flickers of flirting. Both falling into a by now familiar rhythm as they just milked the pleasure from each other, their fields brushed against each other with fond warmness and trust.

There was a moment where Perceptor paused his ministrations though, and a moment later Brainstorm felt an unsteady hand touching his helm. The blindfold was pulled away, and his optics took a moment to cycle and get accustomed to the dim lighting, finding focus from the other’s flushed faceplates. Perceptor looked absolutely radiant even when slumped heavily in his chair, and perhaps just more because of that. He looked undone, flushed and cycling air heavily as he panted. And Brainstorm paused for a moment to clear his head out of the fog of adoration to see that everything was alright since Percy had removed the blindfold.

But Perceptor just nudged his hips against his lips again, mouth falling open as he vented hard and let his helm tilt back as his optic dimmed.

Well well well, turns out the smug bastard is not made of stone after all.

Brainstorm looked up at him now as he continued his sloppy work, and Perceptor was fighting a lost fight because he was progressively melting down the chair and spreading his legs wider, obviously forgetting about his secondary mission when faced with an approaching overload. Well, the jet didn’t really mind. He had a great view after all and a task to finish. Charge danced on Brainstorm’s glossa as he pushed it in once more optics half shuttered as he watched Perceptor crack when he went over painfully teased nodes. And when he pulled out he moved upwards again with a wide lewd lick and closed his lips around Perceptor’s anterior node. It was the last inch required to push the microscope over the edge and into an overload.

It was enough to break even Perceptor’s shy silence, and he gave a loud staticky moan as the currents ran over his neural system, his back bending as he writhed in the chair. Brainstorm helped him ride it out dutifully and not just slightly turned on, continuing to tease the sensitive spot despite the black pelvis being determined to try and push him back and off balance. It was an added bonus when ripples of the other’s pleasure ran over his own plating and down to his neglected spike.

Once the charge dissipated enough, Perceptor slumped into a boneless pile in the chair, venting hard and probably soft rebooting systems. And Brainstorm smirked as he pulled back, smug and proud and kinda breaking character but Percy was out of commission anyways. Or so he thought, because a beat later the microscope was perking up from the chair again, a look of fury on his face. For a moment Brainstorm hesitated, wings twitching as he tried to think back and see what he did wrong, which could be any number of things really but he thought he had only been nice here. But Perceptor was sitting up far enough so he could reach for the jet’s front, grabbing a hold to pull him roughly towards him.

“ _Get up_.”

Oh. Perceptor’s competitive streak was very well hidden, but when poked it was a beast. Maybe he hadn’t planned to be reduced into a puddle of goo under Brainstorm’s tongue, or to come first. Or to slip in the game that he had been so determined to try. And now he looked pretty set on knocking his bonded out, one way or another. And Brainstorm was cursed enough to be open and horny for any of those options.

The jet clumsily scattered to his feet, wrists still bound but determined to not waste time because it was still hot to be bossed around despite their little game having taken a detour. Perceptor’s hold of him still held like a vice grip, and he was pulled over the red mech until he almost fell over with a yelp. His forehead hit the other’s shoulder, fortunately the one without the scope, and he leaned most of his weight there to not crush the microscope under him, wings twitching to try and find balance.

He paused for a cycle to let his processor catch up with what was happening, and from his lopsided view he could see Perceptor’s frame spreading out under him, his hips in a canted position and his own definitely leaking spike covered by the flap of his waist. One white thigh moved, and the leg went to hook behind Brainstorm, tugging him in closer both by hips and the death grip on his chest.

“ _In_.”

And Brainstorm twitched to obey the growled order like it was hardwired into him, somewhat awkwardly angling his hips so the flap was pushed from the way while he tried to bend from his knees and blindly find the mark with his spike that felt hard enough to fall off. Perceptor tried to help with lifts of his hips, bless his impatient spark, but really it just made the task that much harder for him. Still, he was determined, and not just slightly on the desperate side by now, and with few thrusts he managed to brush over the wet valve with the tip. With a few more nudges the head of his spike caught the right spot, and then it was just a matter of finding the right angle, wings frantic to balance him in this weird position, and carefully sinking into the molten heat with sinfully tight calibrations.

Brainstorm moaned wantonly just as Perceptor gasped, and he shuttered his optics as he pressed his face against the other’s neck cabling and just focused on how good it felt to have a valve around his spike. Not just physically. Physically it was pure ecstasy, potent and addicting. Especially after all the teasing and waiting. But the emotional intimacy, the tight synchronization of their fields, the way they moved together like they were forged for it. He had been determined that they would be a good fit and he was downright giddy to be proven right. _Simpatico_.

Shaky knees wrapped around his waist, and he felt hands roaming his frame, reaching around him and for his wrists. Deft fingers worked open the cuffs, and the moment they fell away Brainstorm’s hands were touching his conjunx all over. Perceptor didn’t seem to mind at all, his own hands now finding good spots to cling to so he could pull the jet even closer with a needy gasp. It had the jet weak, and that much more determined to absolutely ravish his conjunx.

Brainstorm’s shoulders complained. His arms had been twisted into an awkward angle for a while, but the discomfort was brushed aside as he took a hold of the other’s hips and manhandled him into a better yet still awkward position in the chair. From the better angle he was pleased to give a few proper thrusts in desperate and uncoordinated twitches of his hips, slapping aside his front flap so he could see his spike disappear into the other mech. Well the angle was a bit wrong for a clear view since he was still practically lying on top of Percy but it was the thought that counted, right?

Perceptor whispered little encouraging _‘yes’_ s into his audials that went straight into his spike, clinging to the jet like he was drowning as the thrusts rocked both him and the chair. But now that Brainstorm had worked his way up from the floor to the top of the control chain and had Perceptor opened up like this he realized that he wasn’t in any hurry to end it, and on the next thrust he sank in to the hilt up to the ceiling node, arrays snug together and paused. Perceptor was venting harsh, and he cycled his optics in surprise when they suddenly stopped. And just when he was about to raise his face to tell the jet to continue in no doubt a sharp manner, Brainstorm’s hand was on his cheek to tilt his head back into a kiss.

Perceptor didn’t complain, shuttering his optics dark as the kiss lingered. And then there was another. And another. And Brainstorm rewarded them with a slow pull out with his spike, and then a gentle and long push back in. Slow enough to let him feel every node he passed, before he was buried to the ceiling node again and he could feel Perceptor’s engine purring against him in pleasure. His wings twitched, spread out protectively over their forms.

He repeated this again, slow and tender, and a third time. And blue optics onlined in surprise, and Perceptor looked up at him with a mixture of question and adoration. And Brainstorm’s spark swelled in his chest, feeling so full and heavy with love that he didn’t know what to do with it. So he just continued softly rocking into Perceptor, his _bonded_ could you believe, and peppered his lips and face with kisses and soft touches. His whole life had been basically a series of unfortunate events and some explosions, and he had no idea which deity had decided to have mercy on him to bless him with this absolute perfection. Perfection that wanted to indulge his weird quirks and kinks. Perfection that tolerated him with fondness. Perfection that was Perceptor.

At first Percy indulged his needs for the emotional intimacy, giving few soft kisses back, his hands moving up his frame, one placed on his shoulder and the other around his neck. And meeting the gentle thrusts with a matching tilt of his hips. Because despite feeling a bit out of his depth with such strong emotions, he still appreciated and acknowledged the emotional depth of his partner in any ways he was capable. But no matter how much he loved Brainstorm, he was worked up, tired, and impatient for that overcharge. And he grabbed a hold of Brainstorm’s helmet gently and brought their foreheads together, optics shuttered and the smallest of smiles on his lips, whispering in the gentlest yet firmest way.

“Brainstorm. Light of my life. This is wonderful, but if you don’t frag me through this chair soon I might snap.”

And it broke whatever spell the jet had been under, and he broke into giggles over the threat. Oh he didn’t doubt that if he didn’t comply Percy would bodily wrestle him out of the chair and ride him on the floor if it was what it took -which was not a bad scenario to daydream about- but he had already been on the floor enough for today. The microscope just smiled fondly at his amusement and waited it out, and he was rewarded with a happy kiss by Brainstorm a moment later, that he deepened with glossa as he took a firm hold of Perceptor’s hips again and moved.

And from there it was just a sprint for the finish line, the earlier charge building right back up like it had never gone anywhere. Perceptor’s fingers were digging into the jet’s plating so hard he must have dented something, and Brainstorm was determined to claim and conquer the other’s mouth for his own. The phase was of the brutal pain scraping sort, but much needed at this point, and when the charge finally built into critical levels between them they just happily tipped over with loud twin cries of pleasure.

They writhed together, riding out the overload in short and sharp thrusts and glitched out moans and blindly placed kisses. And when the last flickers of the charge disappeared along their neural network Brainstorm pushed his spike in deep enough to nudge their arrays together, just to enjoy the feeling of the last spurts of transfluid and the tingles of pleasure the feeling brought. And he stayed there as he rested his head on Perceptor’s shoulder and just melted from relief.

They both were venting hard, internal fans trying to desperately cool them down from the exertion. Sparks fluttering wildly in the same happy rhythm. They would need to move out of the chair before they got too drowsy but that could wait one more moment. Because Brainstorm tiredly picked up his head just enough so he could see the other’s dimmed optics from the edge of his vision.

“So. I remember there being an offer of doing this during work hours.”

And all he got for his troubles was an uncoordinated bonk on his helm, as he broke into laughter.

**Author's Note:**

> and that's a wrap! thank you for reading. feedback is always appreciated <3


End file.
